A Poem for My Dear Friend: The Culinary Master of Tokyo

— To a Beijing soul forged into a Japanese master chef

In the summer of ’96, shortly after I arrived in Tokyo,

I stumbled upon a humble street-corner diner and met the authentic fires of my hometown, Beijing.

Drawn to the kitchen by the elegant presentation and taste upon my plate,

I saw your silhouette — sweat pouring down your face as you tossed the heavy iron wok over roaring flames.

You had just arrived, spoke no Japanese, possessing supreme skill yet choosing quiet solitude,

Transforming off-menu delicacies — your handcrafted Chinese accordion cucumber (Suoyi Huanggua) and crispy golden chicken — into the unspoken bond between us.

In the intense heat of the kitchen, you tempered yourself in silence,

Like a piece of raw steel undergoing its rite of fire.

Later, I traveled to North America, returned to China, and eventually traversed Tokyo’s skyscrapers for IBM.

In 2007, amidst the neon lights of Shinjuku, time brought us together once more.

You had opened your own restaurant, your eyes gleaming with newfound composure and self-assurance.

No longer boasting of your Beijing heritage, you humbly guided me to taste the ultimate craft of Japanese masters —

That delicate, unforgettable grilled eel shirako, a rare masterpiece etched forever on my palate.

Time flows on, relentless as a surging river.

Today, in 2026, we reunite beneath the glittering lights of Ginza.

Sipping wine with a gentle buzz, you casually whip up a few side dishes, your conversation brimming with grace and ease.

The crushing weight of life’s pressures has long turned into the most brilliant badges of honor on your resume;

Decades of continuous tempering have finally honed you into a resilient, unstoppable blade.

The mundane worries and storms of this world need only graze your sharp edge,

And they instantly vanish into dust —

While you merely smile, staying serenely silent.

Photo by yewq (Reunion at Ginza, 2026)

Thirty years of friendship, forged through fire and honed by time. On the left: my dear friend, the culinary master; on the right: myself. Standing beneath the warm glow of his Ginza, Tokyo store, celebrating a bond that only deepens with age.